I know not if my friend Hannah has seen the game of stoolball as it
is played in our village of Plymouth, because those among us who take
part in it use no sticks nor bats, but strike the ball only with their
hands. Of course we have no real stools here as yet, because of the
labor necessary to make them, when a block of wood serves equally well
on which to sit; but the lads who play the game take a short piece of
puncheon board, and, boring three holes in it, put therein sticks to
serve as legs.
These they place upon the ground behind them, and he who throws the
ball strives to hit the stool rather than the player, who is allowed
only to use his hands in warding it off. Whosesoever stool has been hit
must himself take the ball, throwing it, and continuing at such service
until he succeeds in striking another's stool.
[Illustration]
Sarah and I had believed that at this festival time, we would gather
in the new meeting-house to praise the Lord for his wondrous goodness;
but Master Bradford believed it would not be seemly to mix religious
services with worldly sports, therefore it was not until the next
Sabbath Day that we heard lessons of the Bible explained from that
reading desk built of puncheons and short lengths of tree trunks.
Perhaps it was because Governor Bradford allowed the men and boys
to play at games during the time of thanksgiving, that they came to
believe such sports would be permitted on Christmas, even though the
elders of our colony had decided no attention should be paid to the day
because of its being a Pagan festivity.